


Silence is Sexy

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ball Gag, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Physical Restraints, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Some days, Oikawa's teasing can be relentless.Fortunately, Iwaizumi has discovered a foolproof way to shut him up.





	Silence is Sexy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NicheKinks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicheKinks/gifts).



> This is literally just smut. There is no substance here.
> 
> Written for Foxyena, who is a bad influence but a good friend - I hope you like it! ^^

“Nice one, Iwa-chan!” called Oikawa, as Iwaizumi’s shoes squeaked against the gym floor. “All the other aces should be jealous of that brute strength!”

Iwaizumi slid him a glare, but stepped away without responding. Hanamaki stepped up behind him, the next in line for the spiking drill.

“He’s on your ass today, Iwaizumi,” said Hanamaki with a smirk. He crouched a little, preparing for his run up to the net. 

“He’s a _pain_ in my ass,” grumbled Iwaizumi.

The ball flew in a perfect arc, propelled by Oikawa, and Hanamaki lunged into motion. His spike crashed onto the other side of the court, a breath away from the left boundary line.

“Nice course, Makki!” said Oikawa brightly. “Were you watching that, Iwa-chan? Your aim could use some improvement.”

Iwaizumi’s hands curled into fists, mouth pulling to one side as he clenched his jaw. He wanted to say something. In fact, he had an entire list of snappy insults that he would love to hurl in Oikawa’s direction, along with a sharp elbow or a rough shove. 

Instead, he turned on his heel and got back in line behind Kunimi, who he was certain had been a few spots farther ahead. 

He fumed as the line flowed through, each of his teammates stepping up to take their turns with Oikawa’s perfect sets. When they’d all gone through a few rounds, Watari would step up to set a few balls for Oikawa. It was a typical drill, one that they practiced often.

Usually, though, Oikawa toned down his attitude.

Especially when the coach was sitting so close, watching them with the laser focus that only appeared in the week before an important match.

That was the only reason Iwaizumi hadn’t put Oikawa in his place yet. The coach had seen them roughhousing before, and though he didn’t seem concerned, Iwaizumi still liked to keep up a good impression.

That became much more difficult when the rotation shifted and Iwaizumi stepped up for another turn.

“Don’t think too much, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa, singsong, as he set the ball. “You’ll short out your brain and miss your spike.”

Iwaizumi almost did miss, but it had nothing to do with the state of his brain. It was his emotions, boiling just beneath the surface, anger and indignation and just a touch of _something else_ that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He would’ve walked away again, if it hadn’t been for the way Oikawa was looking at him. That smug smile was what broke him.

Iwaizumi stomped over and seized Oikawa by the front of his t-shirt, yanking him close. Oikawa opened his mouth, probably to protest the rough treatment, but Iwaizumi’s low voice stopped him.

“Run your mouth while you can,” hissed Iwaizumi, quietly enough that his teammates wouldn’t overhear. “After practice I’ll make sure you can’t talk anymore.”

Oikawa’s eyes flew wide. Iwaizumi released him with a shove and marched to the back of the line, the tips of his ears hot. His blood was still burning, but with a little less anger and a little more of that _something else_.

It was the same _something else_ that made Oikawa’s face red.

Oikawa cleared his throat and put himself back together. “Okay, next up!”

Other than his flush, he looked unbothered.

Until he completely fumbled the ball and Hanamaki didn’t even bother jumping for it, instead watching the too-low set bounce against the gym floor. 

“Sorry, Makki!” said Oikawa sheepishly. “I was just, ah… Here, toss it over. Let’s go again.”

When Hanamaki had been given a decent toss, he circled to the back of the line and nudged Iwaizumi with his elbow. “What’d you say to him?” he asked. “Must have been a hell of a death threat.”

“Something like that,” said Iwaizumi, not looking directly at him.

Instead he was looking at Oikawa, who appeared to have fully recovered.

If it hadn’t been for the furtive yet sharp glances he threw toward Iwaizumi every few minutes, it may have been convincing. 

  
  
  
  
Practice wrapped up about an hour later. The team went through their stretching routine, hit the showers, and left the gym in pairs or small groups. 

Iwaizumi pulled a t-shirt over his wet hair, threw his bag over his shoulder, and turned to find Oikawa waiting for him, fully clothed, hair styled perfectly.

“Want to walk me home, Iwa-chan?” said Oikawa. “I always feel safe with you. No one is going to rob me if I’m with such a scary brute.”

The teasing insult made Iwaizumi feel warm, but it wasn’t anger, or even irritation.

It was only that _something else_. 

“We’re going the same way,” said Iwaizumi, turning away. “If you want to tag along I can’t stop you.”

“As if you would stop me anyway,” said Oikawa. “I’m a delight.”

They fell into step as they left the gym and trekked across the familiar streets that led to their neighborhood. It was only a fifteen-minute walk, one that they’d made every day for almost three years. Even before that, they’d walked home together, though Kitagawa Daiichi had been a little closer. The two of them had been neighbors since they were kids. It only made sense for them to walk together.

Typically the trip was peppered with mild insults and teasing banter, all wrapped up in discussions about their classes and their team.

Today, though, there was little conversation. A heavy silence lingered between them, almost stifling amid the late summer heat. Both of them felt it. It was apparent in the sideways glances shared between them when they thought the other wasn’t looking. 

But the silence lingered, and when they reached Iwaizumi’s house, Oikawa followed him inside without a word.

Iwaizumi’s dad always worked late, and his mom wasn’t present, either. It was a Wednesday, which meant she was next door at the Oikawa residence for their weekly book club. 

It was extremely convenient. 

Iwaizumi left his shoes and his gym bag by the door and started up the stairs as Oikawa did the same. He waited in the middle of his room, hands in his pockets and a buzz of expectation warming his blood. 

Oikawa was only a minute behind, his footsteps nearly silent. 

“Close the door,” said Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan isn’t the boss of me.”

It was a challenge, and it smoldered between them like embers.

Iwaizumi turned to face him. Oikawa stood in the doorway, arms folded, mouth quirked into a slight smirk.

Iwaizumi’s first instinct was to hit him. That was the only way he’d known how to deal with Oikawa when they were younger, before he realized exactly why it was so easy for Oikawa to get under his skin. 

Now he pushed that urge aside and recognized it for what it truly was. He stepped closer, slowly but purposefully. Oikawa didn’t back away, but something flickered across his face.

Iwaizumi stopped in front of him. Then he reached around him and slammed the door shut. Oikawa winced just before he was shoved back into the closed door, Iwaizumi’s hands fisted into the front of his shirt. 

“Your attitude is shit,” snapped Iwaizumi. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

Oikawa’s smirk returned. “Too bad there’s no one here who can handle me.”

Iwaizumi raised a hand to grip the back of Oikawa’s hair, curling his fingers into a fist, pulling tight enough to make Oikawa wince. 

“You know I can handle you,” he said, so low that it was nearly a growl. “I’m the only one who can.”

He gave Oikawa’s hair a little tug and then leaned close to kiss him, going up on his toes to make up for the slight difference in height. He pressed Oikawa into the door, their bodies flush together, one of his legs slipping between Oikawa’s to draw them even closer. 

He licked into Oikawa’s mouth, traced the edges of his teeth, curled their tongues together. Then he bit down on Oikawa’s lip, hard enough to make him gasp, before pulling back.

“Get on your knees.”

Oikawa stared at him a little blankly, lips parted, breath coming a touch too quickly. For a moment Iwaizumi thought he would argue, but then Oikawa licked his lips and sank down to the floor. 

The sight of Oikawa on his knees made Iwaizumi feel like he was about to catch flame. The heat of that _something else_ burned more hotly, the _something else_ that he’d finally identified as lust the year before. 

He turned away from Oikawa with a great deal of reluctance and dug into one of his desk drawers. On the surface was a debris of school notes and spare pencils and a couple of thin novels that he’d never read. 

Beneath that was what he needed.

When he turned back, Oikawa zeroed in on his hand, his tongue darting out to wet his lips again.

Iwaizumi crouched in front of him, dangling the ball gag in front of Oikawa’s face. “You’ve ran your mouth all damn day. It’s time for you to shut up.”

Oikawa swallowed, eyes stuck to the gag. 

“Open your mouth.”

Oikawa licked his lips one more time, slowly. Then he stretched his mouth open, eyes sliding to Iwaizumi, waiting.

Iwaizumi popped the ball into his mouth, pressing it between his lips. Once it was in place, he waited for a quick nod from Oikawa before he fastened the strap at the back of his head, careful not to get it tangled in his hair.

He stood and took a step back, admiring the way Oikawa’s lips stretched around the gag. The ball twitched, and Iwaizumi knew Oikawa must be licking at it.

“Take your clothes off,” said Iwaizumi, “and get on the bed.”

Oikawa didn’t hesitate. He was on his feet in an instant, shimmying out of his pants, already moving across the room.

Iwaizumi had discovered a few months ago that, despite Oikawa’s attitude, he became completely, blissfully compliant as soon as his mouth was full.

It was a discovery that Iwaizumi had taken full advantage of.

He stripped out of his own clothes, pausing only to lock his bedroom door. Then he yanked open the wardrobe and grabbed one of his spare school uniform ties.

When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of Oikawa seated in the middle of his bed, completely naked, legs spread just enough to give him a glimpse between. 

All of the heat in Iwaizumi’s body rushed lower.

“Scoot up,” said Iwaizumi. He flattened the tie between his hands. “Arms over your head.”

Oikawa stared at the tie, eyes darkening. He moved to do as he was told, stretching himself out on Iwaizumi’s bed, already gripping the slats of the headboard. 

Iwaizumi straddled his chest, very aware of the breath on his dick as he bound Oikawa’s hands and secured them to the headboard. He shuffled back and said, “You good?”

Oikawa answered with a long-suffering eye roll.

He’d told Iwaizumi that he didn’t always have to ask.

Iwaizumi always asked anyway.

He slapped Oikawa’s chest, lightly. “Don’t be a dick. Kick me or something if you want me to stop, okay?”

Oikawa huffed a breath through his nose and nodded. His hips fidgeted, a silent plea for attention.

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Iwaizumi. “Be patient.”

Oikawa made a sound that was mostly muffled by the gag. 

Iwaizumi dipped a hand into his nightstand for lube. Oikawa’s eyes were on him the entire time, as he uncapped it and spread it across his fingers and settled between Oikawa’s legs.

He used his free hand to feel along the inside of Oikawa’s thigh, coaxing his knees a little farther apart. Then he traced his was upward, thumbing at Oikawa’s balls, gently trailing his fingers along the underside of Oikawa’s dick.

Oikawa squirmed, bucking his hips up, wordlessly requesting more.

Instead, Iwaizumi slid his other hand between Oikawa’s legs and pressed a lube-slick finger against him. 

Oikawa keened, his head thrown back, muted sounds pressing against the gag as Iwaizumi worked his way inside. 

Iwaizumi hunched over to lick a stripe along Oikawa’s length, and received another muffled cry in response. 

He moved his finger in and out, curling it every few seconds, taking in the sight of Oikawa writhing beneath him.

It wasn’t the first time they’d done this, and it wouldn’t be the last, but Iwaizumi still enjoyed every twitch of Oikawa’s body.

He took Oikawa’s dick in his free hand, squeezed it lightly, and caught a bead of pre-come with his thumb. He brought it up to his mouth and licked it away, and Oikawa moaned into his gag. 

Iwaizumi started pumping him slowly, pausing only to squeeze some lube into his palm. He worked Oikawa in time with his finger, gradually slipping a second one in alongside the first and cherishing the unsteady jerk of Oikawa’s hips.

Iwaizumi sank in deeper, feeling Oikawa tighten around the intrusion. He curled his fingers, searching, and Oikawa lurched beneath him.

Iwaizumi grinned up at him. “Got you.”

Oikawa’s eyes were wide and a little hazy, twin lines of spit dripping from each corner of his open mouth. 

He was perfect.

Iwaizumi started thrusting his fingers in and out more quickly, focusing on the spot that made Oikawa gasp and twitch and moan. His other hand lightly pumped Oikawa’s cock, providing contact but no real relief. 

It made Oikawa desperate, and that made Iwaizumi harder.

He pushed his fingers in deep and kept them there, completely releasing Oikawa’s dick, leaning in to hover over him.

“I like you like this,” said Iwaizumi, his voice so low it was nearly a rasp. “Why can’t you be this well-behaved all the time? You just don’t know how to keep your mouth shut.”

Oikawa made some sort of sound that Iwaizumi couldn’t interpret, staring up at him with desperate eyes. If he hadn’t been gagged, he probably would’ve been begging.

Iwaizumi couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy that, too.

“Do you want to come?” said Iwaizumi.

Oikawa nodded, tugging at his bound hands.

“Do you think you deserve to, after you were such an ass today?”

Oikawa’s brows pulled together in clear concern.

“Maybe I should just let you lay here for a while and think about all the shit you said to me.”

Oikawa shook his head back and forth, pulling at his bonds with a little more intent. They didn’t give even a centimeter. Iwaizumi pushed down harder and Oikawa groaned, more spit dribbling from the corner of his lips. 

Iwaizumi watched him a little longer, devoting to memory the way Oikawa squirmed beneath him, a silent plea for release. Finally he gave in and returned to his place between Oikawa’s legs, again wrapping his hand around a hot, desperate cock.

This time when he started stroking him, it was with purpose. He pumped him quickly and firmly, thrusting his fingers in and out of Oikawa, driving them into him with enough force to have Oikawa’s hips bucking off the bed.

At that pace, it didn’t take long. Oikawa came with a muffled shout, spraying hot come across his own stomach, the last spurts dripping down Iwaizumi’s fingers. 

Iwaizumi sat back as Oikawa drifted down, his eyes closed and his head back. His legs had limply fallen apart, completely exposing him. 

Iwaizumi found himself reaching for his own cock, which was rock hard in his hand.

When Oikawa finally opened his eyes, they drifted fondly to Iwaizumi, but sharpened when he saw what he was doing. He shook his head and aimed a weak kick at Iwaizumi’s ribs. 

“What?” said Iwaizumi, slapping him away. Despite the insistent throbbing of his dick, he released himself and crawled up to unlatch Oikawa’s gag. The ball was dripping with saliva when Iwaizumi pried it away from his chapped lips. It was gross, but something about it was also undeniably appealing.

Oikawa opened and closed his mouth a few times, adjusting his jaw. Then he ran his tongue along his spit-slick lips and said, “Let me suck you off.”

Another jolt of heat surged straight to Iwaizumi’s dick. He’d thought he couldn’t get any harder. “You don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t have to. Just let me do it.” He blinked up at Iwaizumi with blown-out eyes. “Please, Iwa-chan.”

“Fuck. Okay, hang on, I’ll untie you.”

“No, just like this.” Oikawa opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue in invitation. 

Iwaizumi sucked in a breath and held it. He was afraid that he was going to come just from the sight of Oikawa.

He exhaled, seized a handful of sheets, and swung a leg over Oikawa to straddle him. He gripped the headboard with one hand, carefully inching forward until his cock bumped against Oikawa’s waiting tongue.

Oikawa licked at him, his eyes burning into Iwaizumi’s.

“Don’t be gentle with me now, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa, his lips moving against Iwaizumi’s dick. “I thought you were going to teach me a lesson about talking too much. I can’t talk with your cock in my throat.”

Iwaizumi gripped the headboard so hard that his knuckles ached. “Oikawa, _fuck_.”

Oikawa bobbed his head forward, but could only suck in about half of Iwaizumi’s dick before his bound hands stopped him from moving further. He pulled back and said, “Come on, Iwa-chan. I thought you were the only one who could handle me. I’m all tied up and ready for you. If you’re not going to use me, what’s the point? What are you scared of? Do you think you can’t-”

His taunt was cut short when Iwaizumi pushed his hips forward and shoved his cock into Oikawa’s mouth. 

He didn’t press too far. Iwaizumi didn’t want to hurt him, and they’d learned through past experiences that deep-throating wasn’t one of Oikawa’s talents.

Deep-throating wasn’t going to be necessary, anyway. Iwaizumi would be surprised if he lasted longer than two minutes.

Oikawa moaned around his cock, his tongue flicking at the tip, before he moved his head forward and tried to take more. Iwaizumi threaded a hand through Oikawa’s hair and gripped, holding him still as he carefully thrust in and out of Oikawa’s mouth.

Oikawa let his mouth hang open and took Iwaizumi’s cock without complaint, the vibration of a low moan thrumming past his lips.

“Shit,” said Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s eyes flicked up to him, dark and demanding. “I’m going to come. Want me to…?”

Oikawa shook his head. Objectively it would have been a vague gesture, but Iwaizumi knew him well enough to interpret it. He tightened his grip and started moving more quickly, still keeping his thrusts relatively shallow. Oikawa’s tongue moved against him, dancing along the underside of his dick, pushing him into the seizing grip of his orgasm.

Oikawa’s lips pinched around his cock as he came, sending surges of heat onto a waiting tongue. His grip tightened on both the headboard and in Oikawa’s hair as his muscles went rigid, the pleasure knocking the wind out of him. 

As he came down, he let his arms fall to his sides and sat back on his heels, still kneeling over Oikawa.

Oikawa raised a brow at him. He opened his mouth, showing Iwaizumi the strings of come painted across his tongue. Then he pressed his lips together and swallowed, not looking away.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been so spent, he’d have immediately been ready to go again.

He leaned forward and kissed him, licking past his lips, tasting himself on Oikawa’s tongue. 

It should have been disgusting. Maybe it would have been, with anyone else. Iwaizumi didn’t know, and he didn’t intend to find out. He was never going to need anyone else.

He nipped Oikawa’s lip, lightly, before pulling away. “You look good like this,” he said seriously, rubbing a thumb across Oikawa’s cheek. “You always look good, though.”

Oikawa’s lips parted in surprise. “Iwa-chan! That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do,” said Iwaizumi. The tips of his ears felt warm, but he ignored it and leaned down to press one last kiss against Oikawa’s mouth. Then he crawled off of the bed and stretched. “Well, I’m going to go shower. I’ll untie you when I’m finished.”

“Wait, what?”

Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder. “You were an ass all day, Shittykawa.”

“I sucked your dick!”

“Yeah, but you enjoyed that too much for it to be a punishment,” said Iwaizumi with a shrug. “You’re lucky I don’t gag you again.”

“Iwa-chan, please tell me you’re kidding. Wait, stop, you’re not really… Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi stepped into the hallway and shut the door, grinning at Oikawa’s continued protests on the other side.

Of course he wasn’t going to leave him there. Not for Oikawa’s sake, really, but for the fear that his mom would come home and accidentally walk in on a nude and bound Oikawa in his bed.

He wasn’t going to leave him, but he was going to give Oikawa a few minutes to panic before he untied him.

He deserved that, at least, after an entire day of teasing. And yet, Iwaizumi knew it wouldn’t fix anything. Oikawa would go back to his same snarky habits the next day.

Even so, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have changed a single thing about him.


End file.
